


They Do Not Go Gently, and With Them the Warmth

by goldkirk



Series: LeviHan Week 2014 [5]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, I Tried, actually there's almost no fluff i lied, angff?, idk - Freeform, it's also kind of bad but i tried to do this in half an hour at work i'm sorry, so flangst?, this is angsty but also fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 16:20:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2587991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldkirk/pseuds/goldkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rain steals Levi's warmth and his friends, and they never meet kind ends. There's no gentle death in the mouth of a Titan. Luckily, Hange always comes to pick up the pieces of a shattered, frozen heart that just never knows how to grieve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Do Not Go Gently, and With Them the Warmth

It's the day after his first expedition and Levi can't stop shivering. He's warmed bathwater to boiling three times trying to scrub the memory of Titan gore from his skin and he's wrapped himself up in no less then five blankets plus his full uniform but no matter what he does there's a chill in his bones that won't go away. It's late in the night, an ungodly hour where no one should be awake and yet he can't sleep, he can't speak, he can't even cry for them and he  _can't_ _  
_

_get_

_warm—_

And then suddenly the door opens and there's a shadow slipping in, and years of living on the edge of a knife have made him instantly snap to attention and try—as best he can in a tightly-wrapped cocoon of blankets—to manipulate his exhausted body into some sort of fighting stance but then the figure steps into the light of the candle and it's Hange.

Stupid, caring, persistent Hange, who either doesn't notice or doesn't care about all the  _bug off_ vibes Levi has been sending her since their first meetings. 

_Go away go away go away I don't want anyone to see me like this—_

But at the same time, he's strangely happy she's come here like this, during the witching hours of the night, to be with him even though he's never shown her anything but rude contempt.

She sits on the bed next to his small form, huddled again under the mass of fabric. They sit in silence for a few minutes before she looks at him.

"You guys really loved each other a lot, you know?" she said quietly. "I could tell."

Levi turns his head just slightly, enough to look up at her sideways through his fringe of charcoal hair, and it's when he sees the genuine concern and sadness in her eyes he feels something inside him start to uncoil.

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs, voice filled with sorrow, and that's when Levi finally feels the heat again.

It's not a gentle warmth gradually making him comfortable again. It's a raging flood of molten fire that starts in the center of his chest and behind the rims of his eyes and then it roars through the rest of him in a blazing inferno of unbelievable pain because they were the only thing kind of like family he had and he had failed them—they were gone for no reason, and it was only because of his own stupid pride that they were  _dead—_

And Hange held him as he broke finally, held him for hours as he shook with rage and hatred and violent sobs of a grief too heavy to name, and she never said a word because he just needed her there and that was enough.

As the first shades of light broke over the rooftops, he finally slipped into some-much needed sleep, and Hange quietly took her leave.

When he woke up, later that day, Hange was gone and he was alone. But in his chest he felt a small warmth had returned to chase away the cold the rain had left him with, and on his chair was a small piece of candy with a note taped to it— _"Isabel wanted you to try some."_

He picks it up, and silently thanks Hange for showing him how to bring back the warmth his friends had robbed him of with their absence. Maybe, maybe, Hange would be the one to help him regain it.

* * *

 

The rain is pouring down outside his pristine, crystal clear window.

It's years later and the night after another expedition, and he's back in his room with the memories of more dead friends and his leg throbs like Satan's hammer and his scrubbed-raw hands hold their wings so he knows he didn't dream it and that they existed and mattered and loved and were loved—and he's wrapped up in more blankets and he wants to feel alive again instead of this stone-cold emptiness that's leeching the life from his veins in the darkness but he just  _can't_

_get_

_warm—_

And then his door slips open and there's Hange, older, sadder, and more worn than before, but she still comes over and sits next to him in the darkness, no candle this time—

(they don't need one at this point, they both know each others' room blindfolded with their hands tied behind their backs)

and she lets him be silent for a few minutes before saying, "I'm sorry."

He looks at her again, peering sideways through his still-dark hair, and there's a deadness to his eyes that wasn't there before, a deep dullness that Hange hopes isn't there to stay because Levi is not a man to give in and she hopes he isn't planning to start.

"They loved you an awful lot," she says quietly into the dark. "And...they knew, Levi. You didn't have to say it to them for it to be true. They knew."

"I don't—Hange, I can't do this again—"

"I know. I know." There was silence again for a few heartbeats, and then Hange said softly, "It's okay to cry, you know. It's just you and me."

Levi does.

And he falls asleep against her, and this time she doesn't leave.

When Levi wakes up, the pain is still there, and he knows it's not going anywhere fast. But Hange is there too, and she's kept him warm through the night, the woman still in her shitty glasses and hair a tangled rat's nest from sleeping with it up. Outside, the rain has stopped, and he knows the warmth is back to stay.

 

 


End file.
